


Showdown At Kilmeade Manor

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 03:42:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Richards knew that involving Garrison had been a calculated risk, but perhaps the young American officer and his team of wild card cons were just what was needed to bring the mysterious culprits to bay.  And it was a truly serious situation; in addition to the gossip and innuendo and some misleading bits of information leading to suspicions of Major Richard's loyalty, which seriously undermined his effectiveness in the war effort, there had been two, maybe three attempts on his life.   Just when it turned from being a very worrisome mystery into something resembling a bad French farce (as Kevin Richards would be heard to complain), well, that was hard to say.  The question was, how would it all end, this showdown at Kilmeade Manor?  Would they remember it as a mystery, a farce, or a tragedy?  That is, if they survived to remember it at all.  It was pretty much touch and go right to the end.





	Showdown At Kilmeade Manor

**Author's Note:**

> During the War.
> 
> Makes reference to events in story 'Misdirection At Beacon Batch'.

Kilmeade Manor was quite large. Not so huge as many of the other impressive places they'd passed along the way, but still, at least three quarters the size of the Mansion, and in far better condition, at least from what they could see by moonlight, it being well past ten when they arrived. Once they'd turned in at the big pillars flanking the wide tree-lined drive, had come within sight of the house, Garrison had had Chief stop the car in a wide patch of moonlight; he wanted them to see his face, he wanted to see theirs equally well while he gave the lecture, one more time. Garrison turned to look at Chief, then at the three men in the back seat, giving them each a hard stare.

"Now remember, you're here on your best behavior. NO NONSENSE! I promised Richards! This is his uncle's home. I don't want any knife marks in the woodwork, Chief; I don't care what anyone says, the inspectors did NOT seem to agree with Actor's explanation of 'woodwasps' to explain that section of the Common Room wall. Actor, I know the library will be tempting; it has a certain reputation, I understand that from Major Richards, but I need you focused on the job."

Actor flushed; he'd dropped the ball during a little recon job by getting distracted by a perfectly lovely collection of first edition Elizabethan plays. He still was getting harassed by the guys for letting Olbermeier get the drop on him like that, almost blowing the whole thing, not to mention letting Meghada get shot in the process.

"Casino, leave the female staff alone. For that matter, leave ANY females you may come across strictly alone. I want you distant, polite, respectful . . ." glaring at the various snorts and other dubious sounds that greeted that particular directive.

"And Goniff, if I catch you with your fingers on ANYTHING that doesn't belong to you, I swear . . ."

Garrison caught the sly and knowing smiles that brought to more than one face, and hastily amended his order to, "never mind what I CATCH you at, I don't want you PUTTING your fingers on anything that doesn't belong to you, do you understand??!"

Somehow that arched eyebrow and sly smile made Garrison wonder uneasily just what loophole that prohibition had left wide open; there obviously WAS one, from Goniff's reaction. Garrison had the uncomfortable feeling he was probably going to discover just what that might be before this was all over, though maybe not; they all had plenty to occupy their minds for the next few days, after all.

"Alright, any questions before we go in? No? Alright, nice and easy, one last time; we're supposedly friends of Kevin Richards, here as his guests for a pleasant few days of relaxation; in reality, he's having us here to keep us from being questioned by HQ for certain irregularities he's suspected of being involved in, maybe to have the privacy to convince us to keep quiet, maybe convince us to back up his own version of things. Of course, what we're REALLY doing, well, you know the score there."

"So, a con on top of a con on top of a con, right, Warden?"

"That's right, Chief. And it's vital we remember just where we are in the con line-up at any one time, all of us, or we'll blow this, and it'll be our heads right along with Richards', and who knows who else's. And, Casino? Any nonsense like at Beacon Batch, you'll not get leave for the duration, do you hear me??!" sparing a glare for both the safecracker AND his pickpocket.

Garrison obviously still hadn't gotten over that little bit of misdirection, even after all this time! Well, it HAD been one of Casino's more imaginative efforts, one Meghada and Goniff had made him pay for dearly. Casino had the decency to look chagrined. Goniff just gave Garrison that totally innocent, slightly hurt look; well, he STILL didn't see that any of that was HIS fault! Well, not much anyway.

"Still don't see why 'Gaida's got to be pretending to be 'aving it on with Richards," Goniff grumbled, having been opposed to that part of the job from the beginning. Well, that made sense; he wouldn't be happy about that, now would he?

Garrison sighed, knowing that explaining it one more time wasn't going to alleviate the deep-down annoyance their pickpocket felt at the thought, much less his anticipation of the highly unpleasant sight of the redhead cozying up to the British major. It wasn't that Goniff was insecure about his place in Meghada's affections, only, as he'd argued several times to no avail, "it's the ruddy PRINCIPLE of the thing, you know??!"

Noting the indignant flush on their pickpocket's face, Garrison tried giving him a reassuring smile.

"Relax, will you?? She's there to guard his back, Goniff, that's all. Someone has to; there've been two attempts on his life that we know about, and one case of 'food poisoning' that may have been another. We need someone close to him at all times, and that includes at night, without making it obvious that he's being guarded. And I don't think anyone is going to buy one of US sharing his room, do you?"

That got enough snickers to coax a reluctant smile onto their pickpocket's face, along with a impertinent look, directed at Garrison, "naw, Richards aint got enough imagination for that, to my way of thinking!". This time, it was Garrison with the flush rising in his face, Actor saw with amusement.

They arrived, were shown to their rooms off an upstairs hallway by a extremely polite and dignified elderly upper servant, perhaps the butler, who had introduced himself as "Matthews, sir, at your service", in worn but once-elegant livery. Addressing Lieutenant Garrison, he intoned, "breakfast will be served at 7:30, in the dining room. Daniels will be at the foot of the stairs from 7 o'clock on and can direct you. Major Richards is in that center room; he has already retired for the night. You, sir, are in the room to his left, along with this young man," motioning to Chief. Turning to Actor, he motioned him to the door on the other side of that center one, "you and the other gentleman," using one hand to gesture toward Casino, "are in here. I trust you will find everything to your satisfaction, gentlemen." 

Garrison noted Goniff had not been included in the arrangements and started to ask about that, to suggest he might share with Chief and himself, but then stopped, as the butler stepped over to stand in front of their pickpocket. The elderly man managed to keep a frown from his face, but obviously not without some effort, as he looked Goniff up and down with considerable disfavor, getting an annoyed look in return.

"Ei, just w'at do you think YOU'RE lookin at. . ." the wiry Englishman bristled, only to get an aloof, "I'd really prefer not to offer an opinion on that, sir. YOU are in with Major Richards, as he personally instructed," his mouth primmed in stark disapproval.

Garrison and the team looked at each other, in sheer disbelief, with Garrison offering a quick "I don't think that's such a good idea." Of the four team members, there was no doubt who annoyed Richards the most - Goniff took the lead by a clear mile.

The older sandy-haired man sighed, deeply put upon, "I agree, sir; however, I have my orders, no matter how ill-conceived they might be."

Casino just couldn't help the fast quip, "hey, guys, maybe Richards' got more imagination than we gave him credit for. Better watch yer back, Goniff." That got him a glare from Goniff and Garrison, the other two members of the team hiding their smiles of amusement.

Goniff took one long, very puzzled look back over his shoulder, meeting Garrison's worried green eyes, before he shrugged in resignation, opened that center door and walked in. Matthews stood, watching as the three doors closed, shook his head and sighed heavily, and made his way back downstairs, to put the house to bed for the night. 

It was a luxurious room by most standards, elegant sofas and arm chairs, and much else but no bed, so it was obvious this was not just a room, but a suite with a bedroom beyond that door in the far wall. He stood for a moment, taking note of the furnishings, especially the various ornaments displayed here and there. A door opened in the far wall, and he quickly drew his hand back from that pretty little gold-rimmed snuff box, all bright and sparkly with ruby and diamond chips. A familiar chuckle told him she'd seen, but she didn't scold, just walked over and whispered in his ear, "yes, it's very shiny, very pretty, but you're NOT supposed to do any shopping, not here!"

He gave her a sly grin, "yes, I know. The Warden already gave us the lecture. But that little piece? W'at can I say, 'Gaida?? It's just ME!"

She threw back her head and laughed, "aye, laddie. That it is, I suppose."

He grinned even wider, enough she just had to wonder what was going through his mind, but then he asked, "just w'at AM I doing in 'ere? The old geezer outside seemed more than a little pissed about that. Does 'e know you're in 'ere too?"

A dry voice intoned from that inner doorway, "yes, he does, and yes, I imagine he is. Matthews has been with my uncle for many years, and is quite the traditionalist. These are the Heir's Quarters, and tradition . . . Well, he is having enough difficulty accepting my having ANYONE in here, certainly YOU."

Goniff smirked up at Richards, "you mean 'e don't much like the idea of you, uh, w'at WOULD the word be among the toffs?" he taunted.

A repressive look accompanied the crisp response from Richards, "I believe the term Matthews would be most familiar would be 'sharing comradeship', though I would assume he would prefer not to have a discussion of the matter in the first place. He most likely feels some things are better NOT discussed, not that I expect you to understand that. And, no, actually, that isn't what has Matthews 'pissed', as you so genteelly put it, Goniff. It would hardly be the first such, um, 'expression of tempermental affection', this house has seen, even these rooms, as I understand it, though never one of a such an obviously ill-judged, casual and superficial nature."

Goniff considered that for a moment, deciphering that, raising both brows in surprise, then squinted with one eye, looked up at the British officer, crossed his arms over his chest and, after a sly glance over at the grinning Meghada, demanded, "an 'obviously ill-judged, casual and superficial nature', ei? And why would that be? W'at's 'e got to object to? That I drop my 'aitches? 'E don't fancy blonds? I'm too short? Maybe just that I ain't good enough all round for the 'igh and mighty officer nephew of Lord Kilmeade?"

Kevin Richards had developed an extremely pained expression on his face; he obviously was at a loss on which of the various rebuttals, or maybe reproofs, he should start with; there were several that came quickly to mind. 

A faint snort of laughter came from the doorway, and Goniff got a wide grin of welcome on his face as he saw yet another redhead.

"No, Goniff, I believe it's that dear Kevin is sharing this suite with you IN ADDITION to me, though I am supposedly Meghada, not Ciena, since he'd already told Matthews she was coming, calling her by name; she was supposed to arrive with him. When she got delayed past the point of no return, I stepped in. Of course, we sneaked Meghada in through a back entrance (as they were going to do with me), so poor Matthews doesn't know about HER being in here too, or the poor man would probably have an apoplexy. I got the distinct impression that Matthews is getting an entirely different picture of his employer's nephew than he perhaps had from previous visits, am I right, Kevin?"

That earned her a hard glare from the rather straight-laced officer.

"You MIGHT say that. I might put it quite a different way, I must admit. I never had any great longing for the stage, Ciena, certainly not for acting in a bad French farce, but it seems that is exactly what I am now doing! Are we missing anything, do you think? Let's check, shall we?? Highly improbable plot, exaggerated characters," sparing time for another glare, this one directed at the grinning blond man who was obviously enjoying all of this far too much, "disguises, mistaken identities? I think we have most of that covered quite well! So, yes, Goniff, Ciena's presence, in addition to your own, is straining Matthews' professional objectivity to the limit; I think we might spare him the knowledge of Meghada's presence for as long as possible. He is no longer a young man, you know. He has been with my uncle since they were both barely in their twenties, when my uncle inherited the title and the estates; his father was the butler here before him, and Matthews grew up here, took over when his father retired."

Soon they were all four seated in the arm chairs in the third room of the four room suite, sipping at the excellent whiskey Richards had poured. Goniff had now lost all signs of the amiable dunce that he had down to perfection. Richards was fast becoming a believer, not a willing one, certainly, but a believer none the less, in that description of Goniff that Meghada and Ciena had earlier urged on him, one of a man with a keen and sharply devious (if more than a little quirky) mind, with Meghada adding, "you'd almost think him an O'Donnell, Kevin", just laughing when Richards had growled that that wasn't necessarily a favorable recommendation!

Goniff had leaned back, listened with rapt attention as the new details came to light, including the ones about the new staffing at Kilmeade Manor.

"So, 'ow much of this does the Warden know about?"

"Not nearly as much as you, at least not yet. Things have gotten rather more complicated than they seemed even just a few hours ago; there was another attempt on my life earlier today, one that came rather too close," and he shifted uneasily in the chair.

Ciena murmured, "any closer, Kevin, you wouldn't be sitting here talking to us, you'd be in a hospital bed somewhere, if not worse; as it is, that shoulder can't be any too comfortable. I DO wish you'd take that pain tablet you were given."

Richards retorted, "I really prefer not to; I need to keep a clear head about me," starting to shrug off her comment, but the pain from the movement was a harsh reminder of just how true her statement had been. He'd been shot before - he'd never relished the experience, not then, not now. 

"Anyway, Meghada convinced me that we needed more devious minds at work on a solution than previously supposed, as well as more security. I am well aware that Ciena qualifies for that, as much as Meghada, and they both assure me that you are rather talented in that area as well. I had my misgivings, had first suggested it be just the two of them, but they convinced me it was better to have one of them as the 'wild card', held back til needed, them being able to pass for each other without anyone catching on as long as they were careful not to appear at the same time."

"I then suggested Lieutenant Garrison be brought into things, but they insisted it be you, and considering the approach they seemed to feel best, to provide extra security here in these rooms at night, they were probably right. I hardly think the good Lieutenant would be able to pull this off, and Meghada was quite insistent that it be you, said that there were 'details' that would 'enhance' the impression, whatever those might be, so we are left with shocking and offending poor Matthews along with perhaps a few other of my uncle's staff."

Goniff glanced at Meghada, smiled just a bit in understanding of what she intended, then just gave a shrug, told Richards firmly, "better offending the old geezer than getting 'is throat sliced, not to mention your own, which is likely to 'appen if you're right about all of this. And just 'ow did you manage to get the others in place? Seems a place like this, everyone would know everyone else and a strange face would stick out right away."

"Yes, well, my uncle has several properties, each with their own staff. An event like the one coming up in a few days, an anniversary dinner for one of my cousins and her husband, it calls for extra help, and there's nothing more likely than him calling on the staff from his other houses rather than bringing in strangers. We can only hope whoever is behind this hasn't the resources to research everyone; we've put it about that the extras are from the Welsh properties - even Matthews hasn't met all of those."

They discussed it all in great detail, in the end reluctantly deciding to keep the added players to themselves, at least till they could manage a very discreet meeting with the rest of the team, and that wouldn't be til the next day. Traveling the halls at night was bound to arouse suspicion.

It was Goniff who brought up another point, one Richards hadn't considered. "This 'ouse, you 'ave any secret passages, 'idden doors, spy'oles, things like that? A lot of them do, you know, old ones like this. Be a ruddy shame to 'ave someone come sneaking in and strangle us in our sleep. Or even just listen in while we're planning things out. Course, if we knew about such, and THEY didn't, whoever THEY might be, that could work to our advantage."

Richards started to ask, "and how do you know about . . ." then realized that was probably a foolish question to ask of someone in Goniff's 'profession', and most likely one he didn't really want to know the answer to, anyway. He quickly reversed himself, "never mind. No, I'm not aware of any such here at Kilmeade Manor, though my uncle might. He was born here, grew up here, has expounded on its long history many a boring night, as I recall. Unfortunately, he isn't here at the moment, is in Edinburgh and not due to return til Wednesday, right before the others start arriving for the anniversary dinner, some problem with the property up there. Matthews might know, but Garrison seemed rather intent on not letting him in on any of this."

Goniff took a long professional look around, "that all it is, these three rooms?" and Richards had reluctantly admitted to "one more room, another bedroom; the door is rather well-hidden." He watched as Goniff started a surprisingly thorough tour of the room they were in, then the other two they'd passed through, and finally made his way unerringly to the concealed door, then waited, looking at Richards expectantly.

Richards was more than a little uneasy about letting the pickpocket through that door, but realized the necessity for it.

{"It's bad enough Ciena was going to have to see that room,"} he thought to himself, waiting for the reaction, and the bark of surprised amusement from the pickpocket showed his appreciation for the amenities there. The two women moved to the doorway, drawn by that sound if nothing else, Richards now resigned to what he foresaw as some serious teasing from the irrepressible three. Heaven help him if they described the room to the others!

"A swan bed. My goodness, Kevin, you never told me we'd be sharing a swan bed. And one of such generous dimensions!" 

"Not only a swan BED, Ciena; there's a matching swan bathtub in the corner behind this curtain, and it's equally outsized!" Meghada exclaimed with a laugh.

Goniff had frowned in cynical doubt, "but aint a swan bed supposed to be the other way over, like she's floating on water? This one, she's laying on 'er back, 'er tail flipped up, with that long neck bent over letting 'er look down on you. Don't know I've ever seen one like that before! Would think those eyes watchin you would put you off your stroke, more than not."

Ciena had given up trying to hide her amusement, though admittedly she hadn't tried very hard at that to begin with. Before Richards could snap out a quick denial (of the sleeping arrangements, not the impossible-to-disclaim existence of the absolutely huge swan bed or the bathtub - after all, he fully intended to give her the bed and use the extra covers for a pallet on the floor), Meghada had made her way over to the bed and gotten a closer look at the carvings and paintings on the inside of the unfurled wings that gave any occupants a sense of privacy and enclosure. She choked and then gave in to her laughter. 

Goniff frowned, "ei, 'Gaida, w'at's so funny?" and Richards dropped into the big armchair in resignation. He figured he'd be hearing about this for the rest of their acquaintance. The slender Englishman took one long look at the illustrations on that flipped-up tail that formed a short canopy arching high over the mounded pillows, turned big blue eyes, full of wicked amusement, over to the groaning major, "coo! Wouldn't even think some of that was POSSIBLE, you know??!"

Richards tried a glare, tried to overawe him, but frankly, Goniff had more than a little experience, what with Actor and his little snooty ways, and Richards just didn't have enough oomph in that glare to have much of an effect. He watched as Goniff made his way around the bed, leaning in to see each and every picture on the inside.

"Meant to be seen from inside, I'd say, or they're even more flexible than it looks! Leda and 'er swan, and no doubt about what they're up to, neither. Never seen it quite so, well, detailed before. Europa; don't look like she's enjoying 'erself much, though Zeus does. Ei, there's Io, from the looks of 'er - blimey, the look on 'er face! Seems like ole Zeus might not be measuring up. Maybe she and Europa should trade off?? Ah, and there's whats-'er-name, the one w'at 'ad the wooden cow made; don't think that'd fool anyone, much less a bull; Zeus probably 'ad to give 'im a push in the right direction, don't you think? Ah, yes, and there's Ganymede; ole Zeus 'ad 'imself a taste for 'sharing comradeship' too, didn't 'e. There's one or two I can't figure out. Ei, Major, just who's the bloke with the 'orses, and this one . . ."

Kevin Richards, who had been sitting there listening, increasingly torn between being impressed at the unexpected knowledge his fellow Englishman seemingly possessed, and being appalled at being put in this position in the first place, quickly, crisply responded, "I'm sure I couldn't say, Goniff. I'll be sure to make inquiries of my uncle when he returns; after all, determining the identities of THOSE individuals far supersedes the necessity for determining the identities of the man or men we are trying to capture!"

That got a snort of laughter from everyone and they all started checking the paneling and all else, determining to their satisfaction the room was secure, at least as far as they could tell.

"So, you and Ciena back 'ere at night, me and 'Gaida at the front bedroom. Should work; anyone tries to come in through that 'allway will 'ave to get through us first."

"Yes, well, just be sure to keep all the doors locked. It would rather complicate the impression we seem to be trying to give if anyone gets in and finds just the two of you there; that door to the rest of the suite IS fairly well-hidden within the paneling. They'd have to wonder where I disappeared to and why."

That got him a rather old-fashioned look from the pickpocket.

"Locked, rag stuffed into the key'ole, AND chair shoved up under the doorknob, or maybe that 'eavy desk, pistol under the pillows, and w'atever else I can come up with. No, don't want no sightseers or photographers poppin in, not to mention anyone thinking to shuffle off your mortal coil, now do we? Coo, major! A two-year old could get through that lock just by sneezing at it! I know Actor would be arguing for 'istorical authenticity, but your uncle really outta get a decent locksmith up 'ere!" 

Later that night, from his rather uncomfortable position on the padded floor, he just had to ask, "do they HAVE to make that much noise?" Ciena laughed softly, "well, it would seem so. Besides, it is in keeping with the image, you know."

"There are only two voices, Ciena, which should make anyone who might be listening from the hallway rather suspicious," he reminded her, only to have her laugh again.

"But surely no one would be expecting to hear YOUR voice, Kevin; surely YOU are far too dignified to actually allow yourself to voice your, um, enjoyment to that extent. Don't worry, I doubt anyone will question your presence; knowing them, I'm sure there will be more than sufficient evidence to support that theory."

He started to ask her what she meant, then decided he really didn't want to know. He reaffirmed that decision the other two times during the night he was awakened by similar sounds coming from the front bedroom, only thinking, {"yes, I imagine there will be MORE than sufficient evidence!!"}.

The glare he gave each of them in the morning when he got a good look at that storm-tossed bed didn't impress, it would seem, from the wide grins on each of their faces, especially when he heard Ciena telling Meghada, "well, pay no mind to his grumbling; he shouldn't complain. HE snores. Oh, it's not bad, it could be much worse, but still!"

Garrison looked at the others at the breakfast table, making idle small-talk, while wondering what was going on in their minds. Breakfast was a surprise; a man who looked oddly familiar, no one he KNEW, yet somehow like someone he may know (if that made any sense), eased in, apologetically, informing Richards that there had been a small accident in the kitchen but all would be rectified by later in the day. Til then, it appeared there would be no hot food - what food there was had been fetched from the local small eatery. Well, at least they'd thought to bring coffee along with the bread and pastries and fruit and egg-and-leek pies. He'd thought to protest, remembering that bout of supposed food poisoning, but Goniff caught his eye, gave him the signal that it was alright. 

Obviously, they all had to have a serious talk. He didn't like not being in the know, not having a safe place to meet to discuss the operation; damn it, that was dangerous! He knew something had changed in the equation; well, if it hadn't, why on earth would Richards have arranged for Goniff to share his quarters? It made no sense otherwise! And Meghada hadn't come down to breakfast, Richards explaining she'd decided to have that meal in their room, "never at her liveliest first thing in the morning." Strange, they hadn't seen her at all, not yet.

Somehow the offer from Kevin Richards brought all that into focus, his extremely casual, "I would like to show you my uncle's private collection, you know. I've told you about it, Garrison; quite remarkable in various respects. He is rather an eccentric, I must admit, along with a few other of our ancestors. His collection is kept in the Heir's Quarters, the suite I'm staying in. Perhaps after breakfast you might like a tour, all of you? And I'm sure Meghada would like to say hello."

That got a varied degree of genuine interest, but at least an outwardly eager acceptance. Perhaps Garrison would soon figure out just what the holy hell was going on! Goniff staying in Richards' private quarters was bothering him far more than it should have! Of course, there was nothing personal about it! There couldn't be! Still!

Somehow, that quick flash of a smile of reassurance from their resident pickpocket quieted Garrison's nerves to a great extent. He was still more than a little confused that he was taking this so personally; there was a war on, damn it! A mission in play! That was what he should be focusing on! Of course, he always was concerned about his men's safety, but he hardly thought Richards would be any threat to Goniff in any manner, unless the British officer ended up strangling the sticky-fingered little man for snaffling one of the family treasures. {"And besides, Meghada is supposedly up there."}

His tension racheted back up when Richards' hand made very casual, but very obvious contact with Goniff's back and shoulder as Richards passed behind the Cockney in the hallway to take the lead; that Goniff had accepted that light caress without comment or reaction other than a faint coy smile, that didn't help. The disapproval on the butler-type's face was evident of HIS thoughts on that subject. 

They made their way up the stairs, down the hall to the door to Richards' suite. They made idle chitchat, not saying anything of any importance while they passed through the sitting room, through the bedroom, (and Garrison gave a rather jaundiced look at that broad mass of rumpled sheets and covers), then into next room where the 'collection' supposedly dwelt.

There they had a shock. No, not the collection, but the TWO redheads, as closely alike twins as far as any of the team (other than Goniff possibly) could tell, even to their attire, smirking at them as they entered, waiting till Richards pulled closed that pocket door that doubled as paneling, having closed and locked each of the other doors as well.

An amused, "well, lads, are you keeping yourself entertained? Sorry about breakfast; had to do some fast shuffling there," identified Meghada; Ciena took a little more time to identify. 

"So, three attempts now, Major. Two close misses, one with a bullet, another with a knife, then one painful but non-fatal attempt with another bullet. Well, four if that bout of 'food poisoning' was anything more than a coincidence. Whoever this is does seem determined," Actor offered in a very serious tone.

"Determined enough, Actor. Blast it, I have a job to do, and this is making it rather difficult! Even if they don't succeed in killing me, or succeed in making me appear either totally incompetent or even worse, a traitor, they ARE going to succeed in making me appear a total Nervous Nellie! I'm starting to hear gunfire in the slamming of a window, and any quick movement now has me thinking 'knife', rather than 'handkerchief'. I'm more than a little reluctant to have a meal, even a cup of coffee or a drink with anyone, as well." 

"Yeah, I can see how all that would make you a little skittish, Major," Casino admitted, then asked the question Richards had asked himself so many times, "and you aint got any idea at all who might be gunning for you?"

The British officer's face was answer enough, showing his frustration and bewilderment. "Not a clue, Casino. I just know the first attempt was two weeks ago as I was getting into my car. I've gone over everything I can think of, but can't think of anything that's happened that would result in something like this. Each attempt has been out of the public view, where there would be little evidence except my word, well, until last night with that bullet. Perhaps that IS the intention, to destroy my credibility, but for what reason? Put that together with all the gossip, innuendo going around about some odd things happening with the agents I've sent out, the reports I've filed, well, it's still a puzzle as to who might be behind it all, if the events even ARE connected. One does make enemies in the kind of work I do, of course, though I hate to think of two separate ones making a try at the same time; could get more than a little sticky, you know." 

Going over the Major's routine, anything he could remember for the period of time before all of this started gave them no additional clues, and they had to admit that, for now, all they could do was try to keep him safe and be on the alert for the next attempt. That it would come, eventually, they had no doubt, but the bare truth was, they only had this short leave in order to figure it out; then, they were due back out on another mission. And Richards? Well, HQ had accepted his own request for some leave time for family business, but there was a war on, and as he said, he had responsibilities, things he needed to be doing. He couldn't stay hidden away forever, even if he'd had the inclination or disposition to do so, which he did not.

Dinner was surreal, Garrison thought. The food was certainly acceptable, especially for war time, and the kitchen was obviously back up and running. Seven place settings, but only six were being used. There, at the end, was the Major, smiling and smugly content, though his eyes hinted at his inner dis-ease. Well, he certainly should be content, to the view of any outsider anyway; there was a giggling redhead perched on his knee, sharing his dinner.

(Actually, making sure to take a small sniff and bite of everything before Richards did; he'd argued against this, vociferously, but had lost the battle. "We're trained to recognize at least the more common of poisons, Kevin, you aren't! AND we have a certain resistance to those and various others!")

Richards seemingly was so busy with her, along with talking to the other guests, including Goniff perched on the chair at his right side, that it took a long time before he actually started taking a bite of what she now was ever so teasingly offering him, though he was partaking freely of the glass of wine she'd stolen that very first sip from and then handed to him.

Matthews looked like he was about to have a stroke at the spectacle; the elderly butler-type had tried to urge her, as firmly as his position would allow him to so urge a guest, toward her OWN dinnerplate, but she pouted, and nestled her head on Richards' shoulder. Her voice wasn't exactly shrill, not exactly simpering, but it came close enough at times to give the team chills, especially when she pouted and whined, "Keeevinn, I don't have to move, do I? I like it here, sweetie!" 

Casino in particular was staring, and gave a shudder at that protruding lower lip, that voice; she reminded him of someone, though he couldn't quite remember who, til Chief leaned over and whispered to him, "Kelly, remember? Came through town a couple a months ago? The girls were there that night, weren't they? Woulda seen the whole show."

Casino repeated that shudder, remembering the blonde bombshell perched on his knee, drinking from his glass, feeding him kernels of popcorn from the bowl on the table, giggling the entire time. Though it had started out fine, she'd gotten so embarrassing, to the point of openly groping him, that even the thought of taking her upstairs and seeing just how far she wanted to take things lost its appeal. Hell, he'd started to worry about how far she was intending to take things right there at the table!! Fortunately, she'd gotten annoyed at what she'd termed his 'lack of enthusiasm' and after pronouncing in a loud voice, "well, YOU'RE just no fun!", had flounced over to try her luck with a tall non-com from the Base.

Jake had finally had to ask the pair to leave the pub when she'd continued with her train of thought, with the eager participation of the Yank; even Jake, (not to mention Josie and Nellie, who had seen a lot in their careers as bar maids), was getting embarrassed at the blatant crudity on open display. Casino had never felt so lucky about having a woman bail on him!

He doubted the redhead on Richards' knee would take things anywhere near as far as Kelly had; he wasn't sure the British major would survive if she did! He was pretty damned sure that stuffy butler wouldn't!!

A game of cards after dinner, then they'd headed upstairs, heading into Richards' suite for a final glass of whiskey before heading to bed. Now, with the doors all safely closed behind them, locked and braced, Garrison asked if Richards had thought of anything new, anything to point in a direction, any conclusions.

"Nothing!" Richards said in disgust. "There's nothing new - other than me still being hungry, and having Matthews now wondering if I HAVE totally lost my mind! Not to mention dragging that meal out so long that I'm surprised I could walk away from the table without falling over, what with my leg going to sleep like that! And as for you, young woman! Ciena, that was the most appalling display! What on earth???"

The wince that went through every other man in the room didn't escape him, and he paused to replay that last complaint in his mind. Well, he started to, til that pear came flying through the air straight at his head; luckily his reflexes were in better shape than his common sense and he caught it before it could connect. Her voice wasn't a simper anymore, more a cross between a growl and a snarl, and while the quickly snapped half-dozen words weren't in English, he knew they were heartfelt. He was probably better off that way, not understanding; he had the uncomfortable feeling she might be giving him specific instructions for that pear that didn't necessarily include eating it.

"Um, perhaps I could rephase that slightly; perhaps clarify? It wasn't the leg you were sitting on that went to sleep, I assure you; I would never be so rude as to suggest . . ." The glare told him not to bother, as did her tossing her head, then turning her back to nod a welcome to an amused Meghada who was watching from the back bedroom doorway.

"Subtle, Kevin, very subtle. Perhaps you have been spending too much time around us and the family?" The others laughed at the look of deep chagrin on the British officer's face, at the grin and wink they'd seen Ciena give Meghada once she was turned so Richards could no longer see her face.

Another night, a peaceful one for Garrison and Chief, for Actor and Casino. Meghada and Goniff, well, it was up to them to maintain the illusion and they certainly did their best. A dreary-eyed Kevin Richards could attest to that; he wasn't used to having his sleep disturbed with such frequency.

Ciena? Well, her sleep had been disturbed as well, but not by Goniff and her sister so much. No, she'd found herself listening to Kevin breathe, and turn, moaning slightly as he hit his injured shoulder, wincing at the thought of his discomfort. Listening as he settled into sleep once again, and that soft snoring began, only for it to be disrupted when either Meghada or Goniff woke up again.

She refrained from giggling; giggling wasn't really HER, you know, but somehow the sheer annoyance, maybe mixed with a little unresolved frustration, that came through loud and clear from the pallet on the far side of the room, well, it struck a chord and she really felt a giggle wouldn't be TOO far out of line. The situation was more than a little ridiculous, after all, including the fact that she was sleeping in an upside-down swan with erotic, highly explicit pictures painted on it, listening to Kevin Richards snore and curse alternatively, and finding it actually a pleasant, even slightly intriguing experience. Coura would find the whole thing just as amusing, she was sure, and made a point of remembering to share the story with her younger sister at their next meeting. 

Morning came, and with the dawn a new arrival. Cecil Turner, timid, shy, mousy even, a modest and unassuming piano teacher, occasional provider of musical background for some of the smaller social events like the anniversary dinner coming up. Matthews had hastened to assure Richards that, "he came highly recommended - the Ambersley's, I believe, and the Ferguson's as well. Yes, indeed, it was agreed that he could come early, so as to become familiar with the instruments; there is to be music in the library before dinner, then music in the dining room during the final course. Of course, I hadn't realized you would be bringing guests at the time; I do hope he will not disturb you! I had arranged for him to be in the Dahlia Room in the south hallway, so except for sharing the stair landing he is not close."

Well, there wasn't a lot they could do about it; the man was here, it had been pre-arranged, and thus it was unlikely he had anything to do with their current predicament. Other than urging everyone to take extra caution not to let the newcomer overheard anything he shouldn't, Garrison just let it rest, though making sure to keep a close eye on the man. Like he needed one more direction to focus his attention! He left it up to Ciena or Meghada to notify the newer members of the staff, and let Richards give a gentle cautionary word to Matthews as well. Oh, not about the present situation, but about needing to keep an eye on the valuables around the stranger. That was partly the reason for Matthews' current snit; he DID know his job, after all; had being doing it quite well for a goodly number of years now without some young upstart, even if it was the Lord's nephew, telling him how to go about things!

It was in the middle of the night when Richards came awake with a start. "Ambersley, Ferguson! Blast it!"

Ciena was awake immediately, knew he'd remembered something. "Kevin?"

He'd gotten up, gone to perch on the side of the bed, explain everything, but the monstrosity didn't really have an 'edge', just an oddly shaped gap on each side through which to crawl into the heavily padded inner space. Instead he settled in the big chair next to the bed. She seemed to recognize his original intent, though, and was kneeling in the corner of the bed closest to him in the twinkling of an eye, her hand extended resting on his wrist, intent on listening.

He took a deep breath, remembering. "The piano player. Matthews said he was recommended by the Ambersley's and the Ferguson's. I don't remember him; well, there was no reason to, and I was only at the Ferguson's dinner, not the other, but there WAS piano music in the background. I DO remember now that there were reports of things being missing from the offices at both homes during recent social gatherings; neither man is all that highly placed, and the items would have been of limited value to the enemy, but still, it was disturbing enough that word was put out, reminding everyone NOT to take documents, not even their personal notes, out of HQ without prior clearance. No one ever knew if the papers were even the primary goal; other things of value had also gone missing. Ambersley is still moaning about his great-grandmother's parure - diamonds and emeralds to hear him tell it, though the size and value seems to increase each time he tells the story."

She nodded, "we need to tell the others," and together they went to wake Goniff and Meghada. For not the first time, they sincerely wished there was some way to communicate with the others without anyone else catching on, but there really wasn't, not in the middle of the night, with stray footsteps still being heard on occasion. Whether those were friendly or not, there was just no way of telling. Goniff had already determined in his initial examination of the suite that there were no sizeable vents other than for the fireplaces (which were too small even for him), and no windows opening to the outside. They all settled down to an uneasy wait, none of them in the mood to sleep out those last couple of hours before dawn. 

There was little time in the morning for discussion though, not when they all met on the upper landing, only enough for the ever-hungry Goniff to describe his mild discontent with the food so far, giving Richards a broad hint of what he'd like to see on the menu, along with another more specific hint as to an addition to the entertainment.

"Don't be such a dull dog, now, luv; though I was getting you round all that," he wheedled, "could 'ave a few drinks later this evening, sing a few songs maybe. Bet that PIANO FELLOW could be talked into PLAYING US a few, ei, luv? 'E seems a RIGHT ONE FOR THE JOB," and that look he'd given the taller man had actually been sweetly coaxing and more than a little flirtatious.

Garrison had glared, opened his mouth to comment, then abruptly closed it as his logical mind overroad whichever else had been doing his thinking up to then. A quick glance around told him the rest of the team had been just as surprised, but the knowing looks were coming to each of their faces. The apologetic appearance of 'that piano fellow' coming from the hall where he had been placed was accompanied by a shy "I'd be most happy to play for you, of course."

Goniff grinned with wide satisfaction and tapped Richards on the shoulder, "see, luv, 'e'll be 'appy to play for us. It'll be a good evening, it will, get us in the proper mood and all!" 

"Goniff, please. Some discretion, if you don't mind," was all Garrison said, with some apparent annoyance, getting a chagrined look and rapid assurances of that. Somehow that look didn't match the chilly acknowledgement in those blue eyes, though that look rapidly faded to the usual vacuous innocence he wore so well.

Breakfast came, this time attended by only a few of those residing in the house. Ciena, ah, 'Meghada' had again decided to breakfast in Richards' suite, and Richards had come with only Goniff in tow. Chief had been with Garrison, but once at the foot of the stairs, had stepped aside, "not that hungry, Lieutenant. Think I'll take a look around," and had issued an invitation to Casino as Actor and that worthy arrived in the hall. Casino had followed along, the two of them seeming to be discussing those pretty barmaids they'd spotted at the pub in town.

Garrison had looked at Actor and shrugged, "well, I'm hungry, even if they aren't. Shall we?" and they joined Richards and Goniff and had enjoyed a leisurely meal, the only sour note being the absence of coffee.

Matthews had been highly apologetic at the absence, "an accident in the pantry, I'm afraid, and that was the last we had on hand. I've sent to the village and will have fresh made as soon as it arrives." Richards spared a thought to just how accident prone that kitchen/pantry area seemed to be lately, but returned to their conversation.

Chief and Casino were nowhere to be seen when they left the room, and Richards made his way up the stairs, Goniff still in tow. That sight was starting to annoy Garrison more and more, even as he understood his annoyance less and less. It made no sense, his annoyance, especially he understood WHY they were sticking so close together. Firmly he shook his head, and turned in response to Actor's suggestion that they use the massive library for a private conversation. The hesitant intrusion by the timid pianist, who had promised "I'll not get in your way, I assure you; will be just as quiet as a little mouse," and had actually giggled, "well, as quiet as a little mouse playing a piano, of course!" had hardly been noticed, other than an abrupt nod of acknowledgement from Garrison before he turned back to Actor and their conversation.

"Is there another angle? Something we're not aware of, maybe just not remembering?" Garrison queried with a worried frown. On the far side of the room, the timid man at the piano, his hunched-over back to them, drifted from one piece of music to another. Vaguely Actor recognized that last piece, hardly a popular one in this country, {"Return to Leipzig"} and it clicked into place. Obviously the same thing had just struck Garrison, and they said in unison, "Leipzig!"

"Precisely, gentlemen. It certainly took you long enough; I was getting rather tired of waiting, was thinking I might have to draw it out for you," the man seated on the piano bench, now turned facing them, holding a pistol in his hand, amusement showing in his face. Somehow no longer hunched over, the timid anxiety being replaced by a cold and calculating amusement, Garrison and Actor, two experienced con-men, knew they had been expertly conned themselves, and by someone they remembered as being very dangerous. 

"You had dark hair in Leipzig, Herr Mueller, not light brown, and a moustache, if I remember correctly," Actor remarked in a loud voice, glancing back at the door.

"You remember correctly, though, of course, my name isn't really Mueller. Like you, I never use my real name. Oh, and don't think the others will intervene. I had coffee taken up earlier before I came in; I'm told they seemed quite grateful, eager even, Richards, that appallingly silly female and that disgusting little blond he seems to have gotten himself involved with. Tut-tut, and he seemed such a solid, upstanding officer at first glance! Ah, well! They'll be quite sound asleep by now. Well, not the two men we took into our 'care' earlier, of course. As I understand it, one of them is your safecracker; we've put him to work opening the safe in the office upstairs. He was quite reluctant, you know, but somehow a gun at his companion's head seemed to convince him to cooperate."

Garrison frowned, "what are you after? Kilmeade is a civilian; he doesn't have any secrets, and no real influence, no matter Kevin Richards being his nephew."

"Well, I hardly thought he did, Lieutenant. Kilmeade, well, even Major Richards - only the means to an end, I assure you, though I intend to get the best advantage from the major's presence. YOU, on the other hand, YOU are important to me. You got in my way in Leipzig; no thanks to you I survived the fallout. Well, I survived, but I lost a great deal of power and money, and I am not the sort to forgive and forget. No, you and your men, you were the goal of this little endeavor, from the beginning; eliminating you will go a long way to re-establishing my reputation. Your Major Richards has been a little too active on your behalf, enough that it has caused comment. Enough I knew I could use him to snare you and your men."

Mueller smiled with deep satisfaction. "It was all quite easily managed. I had an eye on him, caught sight of the envelope with the invitation to the upcoming anniversary dinner and took appropriate action. Some trouble arranged at Kilmeade's Scottish home requiring his presence, a note from Kilmeade to Richards asking him to come up and oversee things for a few days before the social event, a note to the harried Lord Kilmeade, just as he was about to leave, suggesting my presence as the entertainment at said event, a few near-misses for the good Major to draw his AND your attention, a few whispers and misdirections at that overgrown gossiping ant colony of a headquarters - well, you know quite well how that goes, I'm sure."

Actor asked, "and the food poisoning? That might have worked against you, you know, taken him out of commission entirely," only to get a genuine laugh.

"Oh, it very well could have, which is why I never would have attempted such an uncertain thing. No, you can lay blame for that elsewhere, most likely a meat pie not quite as fresh as it could be, or some such thing, not my doing at all. Even the bullet that struck him, that was more of an accident than a deliberate attempt to wound him; he moved at the wrong moment, you understand."

"Okay, so you have me, us. What now?" Garrison ground out.

"Why, very much the same thing that happened with me, my dear chap. I have a man ready with a van. Richards and his redheaded floozy and his blond flirt will wake up with a raging headache, and you and the others will be gone, along with the contents of the safe and various other portable valuables."

It was with a start that Actor and Garrison remembered Goniff had NOT been with them on that job in Leipzig. Surely, though, with as much else as Mueller knew, he had to know Goniff was a part of them team. Why was he supposedly being left behind?

Mueller continued to explain, "they'll all wake up, you'll be gone, the contents of the safe and a few, well actually quite a few other valuables gone. Think how betrayed they will feel, both the good major and your man. Well, what else are they to think? Of course, whether Richards will believe his little blond companion was innocent, knew nothing, who can say? It should be an interesting conversation, I would imagine."

"I really HAD hoped to get a few incriminating photographs of the two, or maybe the three of them, you know, to send to his commanding officer; now, I suppose I'll just have to be content with a highly indignant, highly detailed letter from a 'concerned member of the moral public', don't you think? I doubt anyone will be any too forgiving, of either of them. It was such a delicate question, you know, what to do about your man. Well, he WASN'T in Leipzig, so it wasn't really fair for him to share your fate. Yet, he IS one of your team, so I could hardly let him get off the hook entirely. Decisions, decisions. Oh, well, such is life."

"And you?" Garrison growled.

"Me? Oh, I'll be right here as well, totally bewildered and innocent, totally appalled at the whole situation, nursing a headache just like the rest of them. I've already placed the used coffee cup and pot of coffee in my room, of course. You and your friends, well, your lives end, if not here, then elsewhere, in the not so distant future."

"I do so love that old saying, you know, the one about killing two birds with one stone! Or multiple birds, in this case. Not only do I get to pay you back for interferring in my business in Leipzig, I end up with a highly-talented British Major, one active in Special Forces, if not dead, then seriously uncomfortable (I have to admit, that coffee is rather intense!), then in dire disgrace and totally out of the picture, AND get my hands on the Kilmeade jewels and various goodies as a bonus. Oh, so many lovely little birds!"

The gun, the cold smile, and Garrison knew he'd have to talk fast, buy them some time. But there was no time; the door to the library was opening and they all turned to face their fate. A loud voice caught all of them off-guard, "hey, Warden, where do ya want us to stuff these bozos?" and Garrison dove for Mueller, just in time to knock the revolver askew. Actor managed the knock out blow sending the villain to the floor, unconscious.

Garrison turned to glare at the doorway, "what about the others?"

Casino gave a grim half-smile, "got em all, Warden. Four down here, two upstairs, one guy in a van outside. Seems having Meghada as an ace in the hole wasn't such a bad idea. Think they thought they were seeing double there, before they started seeing stars. Everyone's okay and wide awake; seems Ciena and Meghada both decided the coffee wasn't a good idea. Said it 'smelled off', whatever the hell that means! Just smelled like coffee to me."

The others who'd been inserted into the household, well, Garrison never WAS properly introduced, Meghada and Ciena both assuring him that was for the best. Still, the two men and one woman had quite expertly escorted the bound men, including Herr Mueller, to their OWN vehicle, and made sure they were made welcome in secured facilities elsewhere.

Matthews had frantically tried to hold on to his professional dignity, but it was a close-run thing, while Richards tried to explain all the various plots and sub-plots. Amusingly, the most profound relief came when the elderly butler had looked in bemusement at the TWO, not one but two pretty much identical redheads, both now behaving in a quite agreeable manner, none of the outrageous silliness he'd been a witness to before.

In fact, Ciena had smiled most winningly, and in a pleasant low-pitched voice quite unlike the one she'd used before, had offered her sincere apologies.

"I truly AM sorry it was necessary to deceive you, Matthews. I know Kevin found it most distasteful in having to do so; he has a great deal of respect for you, you know - has told me many stories about all you manage here, and so well!" The dawning smile on the man's face told everyone she'd succeeded in appeasing him; well, on her account anyway. 

Only one other matter seemed to be disturbing the elderly man, and he took a hesitant, cautious glance at Goniff. The wiry pickpocket grinned back and smugly polished the fingernails of his right hand on his lapel.

"Best acting job I've done in awhile, you know." He paused to frown in mock sternness at Richards, raising one forefinger in warning, "but I'll tell you one thing, Major. You go stroking me across my shoulder like that again, I won't be responsible for the consequences. My 'Gaida, she don't much like others touching w'at's 'ers, 'as quite strong opinions about such things!!"

And to Matthew's amazement, one of the two redheads threw back her head and laughed a low rich laugh, "aye, Kevin, that's true enough. I made an exception due to the seriousness of the situation, but I'll not tolerate any more of it, mark my words!"

The warmth with which Goniff pulled Meghada into his arms, the obvious pleasure she took at that and what followed, that let the last bit of worry fade from Matthews' face, and a smile changed his countenance entirely.

Richards glared at them both, but appeared to accept that prohibition, at least that was everyone's opinion, since he answered quite firmly, "I believe I can agree to that, Goniff, if in turn you promise never again to call me 'luv'!" 

After the laughter ended, Matthews' smile broadened and spoke up, "well, that's just fine, Major. Now, when would you like dinner to be served? I'll see if I can't get Cook to make it a rather special one, in celebration, you know."

"Around eight, Matthews, and have one of the maids make up the Blue Rose Room for Goniff and Meghada, if you will? They'll be spending the night there."

"Yes, sir, and the other miss?"

Ciena grinned at a suddenly wary Kevin Richards, "oh, don't bother, Matthews. I'm just fine where I am; I think that room deserves my full attention now that we've everything else under control - I doubt I've even scratched the surface of its secrets," watching the rising alarm in both of the Englishmen's faces. Or at least in Richards' face; no one could quite decipher the expression on the butler's face.

"Yes, as to that, Ciena will be spending the night in the Heir's Suite, Matthews. Please prepare the Van Dyke Room for me, the one at the OTHER end of the hall from the Blue Rose Room! I intend to get a good night's sleep tonight!" 

They still had time before they all had to return to their duties, and the next day and night were spent actually tasting the pleasures Kilmeade Manor offered. Matthews and the staff were accommodating, the whiskey and brandy better than they were accustomed to, and Goniff and Meghada relished their time in the Blue Rose Room.

Richards had given a slight frown of reproof when Matthews had murmured, "a very good idea, sir, taking the Van Dyke Room. I'm sure you slept much better than you would have otherwise," but the major wasn't able to keep the rueful smile from his face.

"Quite true, Matthews, quite true."

Garrison was able to relax, well, somewhat, though he still kept an eye on his guys, just because. And Ciena, she explored the Heir's Quarters in some detail, and just knew she'd have Coura rolling when she shared all the other interesting features she'd found. Whoever had put that back bedroom together must have been quite a remarkable individual! 

***  
Aubrey Kilmeade, tall, thin to the point of being gaunt, silver hair brushed back straight, held in place at the nape of his neck by a silver clip, sat in one of the big chairs in his library, listening with amazement as Lyle Matthews told him the story of all that had transpired.

"My goodness, my dear. You HAVE had a time of it! This Lieutenant Garrison and his men sound most interesting; not quite the type I would have expected Kevin to know or be at ease with. I should have liked to have met them. And Kevin and his two, or perhaps three 'companions', what is the truth of that, could you tell?" 

"Oh, once it was settled out, it was quite apparent that the Cockney had indeed been playing a role, though he did give me a few bad moments there. Though he did had some unexpectedly likeable qualities, I must admit; I could have quite seen the appeal - he would have been a good balance to Kevin's overly serious nature."

"Still, it was a relief to know it was all an act. After all, young Kevin is your heir, and neither of us want the line to die out with him, and he HAS been rather tardy about settling down and producing an heir of his own. There is Julie, of course, but the title cannot pass to her or her children, nor the estate, not the way your great-grandfather set things up; not through any of the female line, which lets out the other nieces and their children as well. And the Cockney seems to be most firmly attached to the one young lady, Miss Meghada. Well, from what I had heard from the hallway, which I understand now was the two of them, and from what I saw later, there is a most firm mutual attachment, a serious understanding."

Matthews paused to take a sip of his brandy, gazed at the molded ceiling for a moment in thought. "The other young lady, Miss Ciena? Well, there was only a brief time between when she showed her real self and when they left. I do have hopes, however; once she stopped the playacting, she seemed quite a personable and intelligent young woman, and seemed quite genuinely fond of Kevin. Well, she must be, to put herself at such risk to assist in this matter; I gather that episode at the dining table was actually her acting as food taster for him, if you can imagine! As I told you, there had been some concern about a poisoning attempt, which is why we ended up with the extra 'staff' in the kitchen. By the way, Cook does not know that, so please don't tell her; she would be most offended, of course. The three returned and as you could tell, did an admirable job for us with the dinner for Elizabeth and John; I rather regret not having them to call upon on future such occasions."

"But as to the young lady, I believe there was considerable rapport there; she was even able to gently tease him and he didn't poker up at her, except perhaps in jest. He even was able to accept, even join in some of that with the others; he smiled more than I've seen at any one time in the company of others, I know that. That rather surprised me, to tell the truth; with Lois as a mother, not to mention his father, (which we have always tried not to do!), I was afraid he'd never break out of that horsehair and plaster mold he's poured himself into."

Lord Kilmeade gave a genteel snort, "yes, Kevin being able to take a little teasing, even as you say, seeming to enjoy it - that is quite a change. You know, Lyle, I was more than a little afraid he'd bring home a bride just like Lois; I would have hated to see that happen. She is my sister, and it pains me to say it, but she is an amazingly cold and detached individual, was even as a child. Kevin deserves better than someone like that." 

Matthews continued, "But as to Miss Ciena, I made it a point to engage her in conversation more than once before they left and I was quite impressed. We could do much worse here at Kilmeade Manor than to have someone like her at the helm, when the time comes for young Kevin to take over. She would keep him from giving in to his worst inclinations, becoming cold and withdrawn and autocratic as we'd feared he might. We'll have to see if we can't get him to bring her back sometime soon; you really should meet her. And with her fair skin, that red hair, the Kilmeade emeralds would be quite lovely on her, you know." 

Aubrey, Lord Kilmeade, sighed heavily, "Yes, I imagine so. It's been a long day, Lyle; shall we retire? My quarters? Or maybe the Heir's Quarters?" and an elfin smile came to his elderly features, "perhaps the swan bed? I don't think we've re-visited that spot for a goodly number of years now, not since I broke my hip in that fall during the Hunt Meeting. Ah, how many memories are tucked into that bed!!!"

Lyle Matthews let out a snort of laughter, "Yes, Aubrey, I think perhaps the swan bed, at least once more; I had it fitted with fresh linen after they departed. I wonder if the young woman discovered all the secrets in that room; your grandfather was such an imaginative man! Oh, and by the way, that little gold-rimmed snuffbox from the anteroom to the Heir's Quarters? The one with the ruby and diamond chips? It seems to have gone astray. Kevin assured me it was nothing to concern ourselves with, however, that he was sure it would reappear quite soon."

And the two elderly gentlemen, companions now for so many years, more than sixty at least, sat their glasses aside and retired for the night. 

 

Meanwhile, back at the Mansion, Garrison had just hung up the phone from talking to Major Kevin Richards. Fuming, he made his way to the hallway and yelled, "Goniff!!! My office, on the double!!!"


End file.
